


High Speed Chase

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-09
Updated: 2003-02-09
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Who's chasing whom?





	High Speed Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
High Speed Chase

## High Speed Chase

by Ardent

Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/ardent_muses/

Disclaimer: I don't own Fraser or Ray and, sadly, I make no money when I write smut about them. Imagine that!

Author's Notes: Thanks to Linda and Shell, who looked at early versions, and to Betty and Kellie for final beta. You guys rock. :)

Story Notes: This was written for the frottage challenge issued by LaT and Thamiris.

* * *

  


Ray moved the cell phone another six inches away from his ear. 

"Are you telling me, detective, that you chased a suspect through a busy residential area of the city at more than one hundred miles an hour?" 

"Well...," it wasn't _that_ busy, seeing as it was nearly midnight and there was nobody around. But Lt. Welsh didn't sound like he wanted to listen to reason right now. 

"Not to mention, you undertook this high speed chase in violation of department protocol. Furthermore, you didn't even succeed in apprehending the suspects." 

Ah, there it was. Welsh didn't really care about the chase. He just hated to lose almost as bad as Ray did. 

"We'll get him Lieutenant. Now we know he's connected to the cheese importing racket, it's just a matter of time." 

"Ah, Detective. Your patience is admirable. I only wish you'd shown some of it before you endangered the lives of the Mountie and the wolf. Not to mention the citizens of the City of Chicago." 

Ray's attention wandered over to the grassy bank next to the GTO, where Fraser was crouching next to Dief in the moonlight. 

"I want a full report on my desk tomorrow, Detective." 

Well, that was better, anyway. Welsh's rage seemed to have passed once he had a chance to vent it into Ray's ear. "I understand, Lieutenant." 

Hanging up the phone, Ray looked again at Fraser and Dief. He'd better make sure they were okay. They'd bolted out of the car the minute he'd parked. 

"How's he doing?" he called over to Fraser as he opened the door of the GTO. His own legs felt a little unsteady. 

Fraser's face told him nothing. 

"He's still rather upset, Ray. He says he's not opposed to high speed chases on principle, but he does prefer to be in the back seat." Fraser leaned over and whispered, "He won't admit it, but I believe he was quite frightened." 

Aw, that sucked. Dief could be a pain in the ass, but he was almost like family. Ray knelt down so he could look Dief in the eye. 

"I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to scare you. Those are really bad guys, you know, and I kind of lost my head. I'll do my best never to do that again." 

Dief looked up. 

Ray smiled ingratiatingly. "Forgive me?" 

Dief smiled back. In a wolfy kind of way. Well, his tongue was hanging out. That had to be a good sign, right? 

Ray was so relieved, he barely noticed Fraser's warning. 

"Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray!" 

By the time Ray saw Fraser's hand waving him back, it was too late. 

Ugh. 

"Fraser." 

"I'm sorry Ray." 

"These are my favorite boots, Fraser." 

"He didn't mean to do it, Ray. It was the speed. Well, and all of those cannolis at dinner." Fraser said, reaching into the pocket of his tight jeans and miraculously producing an enormous, clean, white handkerchief. 

"Fraser, do _not_ mess that up cleaning my boots. I'm just going to go over here and stand in the gutter. Thank God it rained tonight." 

Dief whined. 

"It's okay, Dief. Really. My fault. You reap what you sow." 

As Ray stood in the stream of water, he saw Dief shakily making his way over to a small stand of trees. There was one blessing. If he had to lose a suspect, be reamed out by his boss and thrown up on by a deaf half-wolf, at least it had happened in a deserted area. They were almost out of Chicago here, with a view of the city lights. Peaceful, really. Since he'd stopped the car, anyway. 

It was one thing to drive fast. He was a good driver and the GTO could handle it. They'd chased suspects before. But he'd taken some risks tonight -- more than he should have -- and he was lucky everyone was okay. Something had come over him -- something that kept pushing his foot down on the accelerator. Pushed him to speed down some blind alleys. Pushed him to take the corners too fast. The speed had felt like a drug. He had been, frankly, a little out of control. 

Dief would forgive him eventually. He knew how to take care of that. Nothing says "I'm sorry" like a pineapple danish. But Fraser? That was another issue. 

There hadn't been a lot of time to look around during the chase, but he'd caught a glimpse of Fraser's face a couple times, and the guy looked ... fine. Not relaxed, but not scared either. Just intent. Which was weird, because Fraser wasn't a guy who could have too much experience with big city car chases. Even after a couple of years in Chicago, Fraser still drove like he was behind the wheel of a zamboni. 

He'd better check. If Fraser were scared, or pissed, he'd better know now, so he could start apologizing. Fraser meant a hell of a lot to him. More than Fraser knew. Would ever know, as long as Ray could keep his fantasies to himself. 

He stepped out of the gutter and walked back to where Fraser was leaning against the car, looking at the stars. Jesus, the guy was gorgeous. In the leather jacket and flannel shirt, he looked like a model for GQ: The Northwest Areas edition. 

"You okay?" 

"What do you mean, Ray?" 

"With the, you know, the chase." 

Fraser turned and looked into his eyes. There was something there Ray couldn't identify. It might have been anger. Yeah, Fraser was pissed at him. Shit. "I'm fine, Ray. I'm not prone to carsickness." 

"I didn't mean that. Are you mad at me?" 

"No." 

"No, you're not mad? Or no, you're mad but you don't want to talk about it?" 

"If I were mad at you, but wouldn't tell you, that wouldn't serve any logical purpose, Ray." 

"That's because you're not a woman, Fraser. Trust me." 

"Trust you that I'm not a woman?" 

"No. Well, yes. You _can_ trust me that you're not a woman, Fraser. Believe me. But I...I can't remember what we were talking about." 

"Anger," said Fraser. 

"Right. Thanks. I've got to know if you're angry, Frase. I didn't mean to scare the wolf, or to take all those risks. I can't even say it was what I thought was right. Fact is, I wasn't really thinking. I was just _driving_. So, if you're mad, I'll understand. I don't blame you. But I really want to work this out, if we can, because I ... don't want another partner." 

Fraser's look softened a little. It gave Ray hope. "I don't want another partner either." 

"Okay. Good. Right. So, let's get talking." 

Fraser smoothed an eyebrow. "I _am_ a little angry --" 

Oh no. "See, I knew it. You _were_ mad. I'm sor--" 

"But not at you." 

"Not at me? That doesn't make sense. Who are you ... not at Dief! It wasn't his fault. And look, the water cleaned the boots right up, good as new." 

"Oh no. Not at Dief, Ray. Vomiting is the result of impulses within the autonomic, or vegetative, nervous system, located on the brain stem, that --" 

"Fraser. Knock it off." 

"But Ray, I'm only --" 

"Stop stalling and tell me who you're mad at." 

Fraser took a deep breath and looked Ray straight in the eye. "At myself." 

"Huh? You want to explain _that_ to me?" 

"I should have encouraged you to modify your speed, or to have abandoned the chase earlier. It was deeply irresponsible of me." 

"Fraser, it wasn't _your_ fault. I was ...nuts. There wasn't anything you could have said. I would have done anything to get that guy. I risked all of our lives. It was stupid. And I'm....I'm sorry." 

"Ray, we're officers of the law. We both know that there are occasions when we risk our lives in the line of duty." Fraser's mouth quirked a bit, "Sometimes in wildly bizarre ways." 

Ray smirked back, but still didn't really understand. "Okay, but then, why are you mad?" 

"Because I enjoyed it." 

This, Ray had not expected. 

"It was exciting. I've been in the car with Ray Vecchio many times when we chased a suspect, but never at this -- this _velocity_. I knew it was dangerous, but I felt... quite stimulated by the speed." 

Holy shit. Fraser couldn't have meant that the way it sounded, because if he did, Ray's dick would be getting hard. Which it was, actually, even though Fraser probably meant something innocent. Ray's dick just didn't speak Canadian. 

"Ssstimulated?" 

Fraser's eyes were even more intent now. Dark. He was giving Ray _That Look_. The one that made Ray crazy and hot and rock hard. The one Ray tried to avoid seeing, unless he was within five minutes of some privacy. _That Look_ had made for some long, frustrating stakeouts during the past few months. 

Fraser's eyelids were drooping a little. And here it was, right on cue -- the tongue. Just touching that lower lip and then gone. It made Ray want to push his own tongue into Fraser's mouth -- find out what was going on in there, behind the red lips and the perfect teeth. He bit back a groan. 

"It was exhilarating. I uh, thought you might have been excited as well, Ray." 

"You did?" 

"Yes. I sensed some of your response, Ray. It appeared that you were excited." 

"Oh. I mean, yeah. I was excited, Fraser." Not as excited as _now_ , though. 

"I thought so. It's the adrenaline, Ray. The fight or flight response. It arouses our central nervous systems." 

Oh God. Dirty talk, Canadian style. "Arouses?" 

"Mm hmm. Dramatic increases in respiration, body temperature, perspiration. In short, arousal. Not necessarily a sexual arousal, but sometimes that too." 

As he spoke, Fraser's gaze dropped to the front of Ray's jeans. Oh God. How embarrassing. Ray closed his eyes. But...wait. Why would Fraser look, unless he wanted to know? 

Well, as long as Fraser looked first.... 

Hello! There wasn't any mistaking the bulge in Fraser's jeans for anything _but_ a sexual arousal. Not a small bulge, either. The guy was packing some serious...arousal. 

Ray could feel his temperature rising, could hear himself panting a little. "So, Fraser, maybe you could diagnose me here. I seem to have some symptoms of this ... arousal. Don't you think? 

Fraser smiled. A wicked smile. "I'm not certain, Ray. I'd better get a closer look." 

Smoky eyes. Smoky _voice_. Maybe it was a good thing Ray had never heard that before, or he would have spent even more time jerking off in the men's room at the 27. 

And then Fraser was up against him. Not touching, but close enough that there was no mistaking where this trip was headed. God, this was turning out to be the luckiest day of Ray's life. 

Except for that wolf-vomit thing. But still. 

Their faces were pretty much on a level, which was cool. Fraser apparently wasn't going to move in any further -- at this juncture -- so Ray figured he'd make the next move. Mouth. Tongue. Yeah, he'd just _force_ himself to turn his head a little, lean in, and... 

Oh God. 

He had imagined how it would be to kiss Fraser, but he hadn't counted on the _wildness_. Fraser's mouth looked sweet. Tasted sweet, even. But the things he was doing with his tongue were sending a message all over Ray's body. And that message was "do me, do me, do me." 

Fraser's hands came up around Ray's body, pulling him in close and tracing hot patterns over Ray's back. Ray slid his own hands up and over Fraser's shoulders. Fraser shivered a little when Ray's hands touched his neck and then, softly, his ear. But Ray soothed him, hands sliding into Fraser's dark hair. He tugged a handful, not hard, and Fraser groaned into his mouth. Mmm. That sounded nice. 

Fraser had him up against the GTO now, and he leaned in, pushing his knee in between Ray's legs. He was shoving Ray's legs apart. Fuck! That was something Ray hadn't even known to fantasize about. He may have been the one to start the kissing, but Fraser was definitely in the driver's seat here. 

Not only that, but now Fraser was grinding their groins together. Hard cocks, rubbing and rubbing. A wet, seeking mouth on his. Ray wasn't sure how long he could last. Especially when he felt Fraser's hand reaching in to undo his jeans. Oh God. 

With a little help from Fraser's warm fingers, Ray's open jeans slid down his legs leaving him even more exposed to Fraser's hardness. He bucked a little, but then Fraser's hand reached around, cupped his ass warmly and held it still. Fraser's other hand fumbled with Fraser's jeans, in turn. Ray tried to help -- it was the least he could do, considering all of the visual pleasure Fraser's tight jeans had always given him. Unfortunately, those jeans were damned hard to peel off -- particularly since there was a big, stiff cock standing out in front. 

Not that Ray was complaining. 

Finally, they got both pair of jeans down around their thighs, and Ray's pleasure ratcheted up. His cock liked the hardness of Fraser's even more when there were only a couple of layers of hot, damp cotton between them. The clothing that remained wasn't an obstacle -- just an additional source of heat and friction, both of which were Very Good Things right now. 

Good as it was, apparently Fraser thought they could do better. Ray felt Fraser's hands between them again, shoving Ray's briefs down, then fumbling with his own boxers. 

Fraser definitely had his foot on the gas. He had completely lost that "thank you kindly" attitude, bumping and sliding against Ray's groin, groping Ray's ass, groaning into Ray's mouth like he was going to lose it any second. 

He wasn't the only one. Fraser moaning, "Oh Ray. _Oh_ Ray. God, uh!" was maybe the hottest thing Ray had ever experienced. Except for the way Fraser's head fell back, tongue just visible between those impossibly red lips, or the way Fraser started thrusting desperately into the slickness between them until Ray felt hot spurts against his stomach. 

Well, whatever. The entire package was more than Ray could stand, and he got a secure grip on Fraser's ass, fastened his mouth to Fraser's, and shoved his cock into the Fraser-slick heat between them until he, too, was wracked with pleasure. 

When their panting and gasping finally slowed, Fraser lifted his head off Ray's shoulder. His serious expression made Ray wonder whether he was going to tell Ray it was all a mistake. 

Ray started marshalling arguments, because he distinctly remembered Fraser unbuttoning his jeans and using words like "respiration". Both admissible in court as signs of serious intent. 

But Fraser didn't say anything at all. He looked into Ray's eyes, and then he kissed Ray's mouth. Softly. Not urgent and grinding. Sweetly. 

So maybe this whole thing wasn't about isolation and near-death experiences and adrenaline. Maybe those were just excuses for doing what Ray had wanted to do for a long time. Fraser, too, it looked like. 

"Fraser" Ray whispered. 

"Mmm?" 

"D'you think we could try that again sometime?" 

Fraser smiled sleepily. "How fast were you planning to drive us home, Ray?" 

Ray smiled back. "As fast as I can get us there, while obeying all posted speed limits." 

"That sounds good, Ray. I don't think either one of us needs any more stimulation tonight." 

"I did _not_ say 'no more stimulation,' Fraser. Just no more speed. " 

"Ah." 

"I think I can find plenty of ways to rev you up back at my apartment." 

"What are we waiting for?" 

* * *

* * *

End High Speed Chase by Ardent:

Author and story notes above.


End file.
